What they don't see...
- Andrew Todd Smith
- Apr 22, 2019
- 4 min read
They see the photos at the finish line, the medals, the t-shirts, and group pics. They see the hats, bibs and occasional placing trophy, but there is a whole lot more they don’t see…
They don’t see the 4 AM alarm going off to make it to a 5 AM training run almost every day.
They don’t see the countless hours running hundreds of miles training for our next race.
They don’t see the “track” days where we run repetitions and push our speed faster than we ever have before.
They don’t see the hills that we trained on to get stronger.
They don’t see the tempo days where we run faster to increase our endurance over an extended time.
They don’t see the Saturday long runs where we run anywhere from 10-20 miles.
They don’t see our sacrifices in the kitchen, where we have to make choices that sometimes conflict with what we really want.
They don’t see the 7-10 hours a week spent at the gym on strength training.
They don’t see the thousands of incline sit-ups to improve our core.
They don’t see the countless planks at the gym.
They don’t see the sacrifice of skipping evening events to ensure a good night of sleep.
They don’t see the pain of having completed 13 miles and still not even halfway done.
They don’t see the frustration from putting in the work, but still not attaining the goal.
They don’t see the lost and blackened toenails.
They don’t see the symptoms of overheating and dehydration and knowing that you are still several miles from the closest water station.
They don’t see the external factors like heat, wind, and humidity that can completely ruin a race for which you trained hard.
They don’t see the frustration of missing your morning run due to lightning thunderstorms.
They don’t see the hours of boredom running on a treadmill by yourself.
They don’t see the disappointment when your Garmin dies, and you have no idea how much further you have to go.
They don’t see the discouragement of getting lost and having to use Waze to find your way back.
They don’t see the swollen joints and inflammation after a hard run.
They don’t see the games that your mind plays on you when you are delirious. My first marathon I swear I passed mile marker 22 three times.
They don’t see the inability to do simple math after running 14 miles. (I’m running 18 miles, so that means I just have two more, right?). Even more so, the complete and utter discouragement once you realize that you underestimated the amount of mileage you had left).
They don’t see the chaffing or experience the sensation of virtual razorblades scraping your privates after a long run.
They don’t see the cramps that attack your feet and legs after a long hard run.
They don’t see the muscle and joint tightness of running in the cold.
They don’t see the vomit after you’re done and trying to cool down.
They don’t see the emotional pain of having to experience a DNS (Did Not Start) or DNF.
(Did Not Finish).
They don’t see the frustration when nagging injuries kept you from participating.
Yes, that was literally the size of my feet and ankles when I finished the Lake Houston 10K almost 4 years ago while running on gel insoles. I was diagnosed with Achilles Tendinitis and was out over nine months!
They don’t see the discouragement when your headphones die, and you still have 10 miles left.
They don’t see the countless hours spent rolling to relieve some of the tightness.
They don’t see the overwhelming feeling of oversleeping and realizing you missed running with your group on an 18-mile long run day. Or they didn’t know the joy I experienced when one of the coaches offered to drive me out to catch up with them so I could run the remaining 11 miles with them and only had to add on 7 by myself (true story).
They don’t see the friction burns on your knees and palms from trying to cushion your fall when tripped.
They don’t see the crazy wildlife that you have to navigate around in the dark or risk being sprayed by a skunk, bit by a snake or attacked by a wild hog or coyote.
Ok, maybe I embellished a little bit - we don't have Cobras where we live, but we do have some intense skunks, rowdy raccoons, mean as hell possums, stuffed tigers, nutria rats (nature's alligator impersonators) and terrifying flying leaves.
They don’t see the fear that you experience when a car comes just a little too close for comfort, and you don’t know if the driver is drunk, texting or just changing the radio station. Seriously, this is my biggest concern. Running against traffic at 5 AM when traffic is coming at you at 45-60 MPH, when most of the time I'm not even wearing a t-shirt as a level of protection between me and the oncoming vehicle.
But…
They don’t experience the pure joy of placing or achieving a PR (personal record).
They don’t experience a runner’s high.
They don’t experience getting immersed in the music on your playlist and having a fantastic run.
They don’t experience the thrill of finishing a run before most people even get up in the morning.
They don’t experience the friendships that are bonded by running countless hours, overcoming obstacles and pain thresholds with amazing people who were once strangers.
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